This Week in Milford

January 27, 2022

“Coach, I Read In The Milford Enquirer That You Need Basketball Players.”

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 11:52 am

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Is Looking For A Few Good Men To Round Out His Basketball Roster!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“If you can run and you’ve dribbled in your driveway, come on down. It’ll put hair on your chest by mid-season.”

I remember something my step-dad told me when describing his entry into the military at the time WWII was transpiring: “They would stick a flashlight up your butt and if they couldn’t see light coming out of your mouth, you passed.” Exactly the modus operandi Coach Thorp is employing to address lack of brawn in the frontcourt or just lack of players for that matter. What’s next, the equivalent of Punt, Pass, and Throw.? Is Gil going to be auditioning people in the gym for the Dunk, Shoot, and Rebound competition? When you can’t get them at try-outs, you put an ad in the Milford Star and Milford Enquirer. Must be able to work week-ends. Mandatory overtime. Must be a team player. Experience helpful but not necessary. We will provide training on the job. Excellent benefits. Ask for Gil at the desk.

And I’m sorry, I can’t see Gil, though as ridiculous as this is developing, I wouldn’t put it past him, ordering Achebe to drop his britches and Gil proceed to thrust a flashlight up Achebe’s cheeks so that Gil can see if a ray of hope is emanating from Achebe’s mouth. Okay, you literally have guts, go suit up. Next.

Is this the price you pay for getting players to play, let alone have a little game to back them up? Okay, it’s nice to know a dude’s got innards and no sunlight got past his liver or kidneys. But as one person told me when he was getting drafted at the time of the Vietnam War, if you could crawl, they processed you. Okay, that makes sense but I really don’t want to view Achebe slinking into Gil’s office and Gil automatically putting him in the starting rotation for this Friday’s game. You don’t have to lick the floor, and I’ve already looked down your esophagus, you’ll start ahead of Landau. Oh, don’t worry, you’ll catch on as you go. In fact, you’re at the center circle at the tip-off. Hope you know how to jump.

Gil, again, there’s this procedure called try-outs. You don’t have to watch teenagers genuflect in your office to make your final cuts. But maybe that’s the idea. Oh, Coach, you are Atman. The Light of the World. Shut up and get dressed, you’re on the team. And I’m not letting you do anything extra. That’s what Mimi is for.

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J.’s Flag Football Team Desperate For Qualified Candidates!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“We especially need somebody who can hike the damn football. I’m gettin’ tired of downin’ the football deep in our own territory.”

So far, so good. Achebe has no scars on his gluteus maximus after Gil rung him out and he’s ready to play. But I’ve coached private school basketball, especially against some of the smaller high schools in Indiana. And it’d be like being in the locker room giving final instructions to the team before heading out to the court and Deacon Jones walking in wearing our team uniform that is too big for him to wear begging for a spot and willing to settle for 12th man at the end of the bench. Okay, Deacon, I’ll let you be Hank Finkel for a few games. We’ll take it from there.

And WHAT is on the wall in a glass-covered framed bulletin board? The Bill of Rights? Euclid’s Elements? Let no man ignorant of basketball enter these doors. Okay, Euclid, but I believe Coach Thorp had to bend the rules if he wanted to bolster his roster. Anyway, this one’s a head-scratcher and the mind races with possibilities. The cafeteria manager had no room in the cafeteia to post today’s school lunch menu so he or she snuck it in the boy’s locker room. There’s one snuck in the girl’s locker room as well. Equal opportunity in the quintessential sense. Want to know whether they’re serving lasagna again? It’s posted by the pile of jock straps in the lost-and-found basket. Or maybe Dr. Pearl wanted to post school policy. That way, if you get expelled for smoking a toke because you didn’t read the rules when you’re getting dressed for 3rd-period gym class, you had nobody to blame but yourself. Sounds fair to me. Due-processed because you didn’t check all the messages in the girls locker room.

Maybe it’s all the $5 lunch plate specials at The Diner. I was wondering how Maureen was able to saunter in the hallways without a hall pass.

Special Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Not Concerned About Critical Shortage Of Players On The Roster, Fully Intends To Tough Out Season!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“$100 Gift Cards to The Bucket should eventually land me that can’t-miss prospect.”

And okay, Thorpiverse, we’ll turn our heads on the eligiblity rules and let somebody off the streets come in and check in at the scorer’s table. This is a railroad job bigger than The Little Train That Could. But we’ll swallow and chew the gumball with epsom salts out of the gumball machine and like it. But do we have to look at Deacon Jones check in at the scorer’s table wearing a tutu? Where in the name of Don Noort did Achebe get that outfit? I mean, when Kentucky put in G. J. Smith (fan favorite, BTW) with a minute to go in a 60-point blowout, you didn’t see him in a laced-infested leotard. When Coach Knight inserted Don Noort with seconds to go in a game decided by halftime, you didn’t see Noort dressed like he was going to perform an entrechat to “Swan Lake” instead of playing the point in the motion offense. So why is Deacon Jones clad better for a pas de deux than boxing out down low? I realize that getting uniforms when Gil is smuggling players to the bench while hoping the Valley opponent is preoccupied with lay-up drills can occasionally turn out to be a daunting venture. And sometimes Gil has to scrape the bottom of the barrel, a practice he is well familiar with for decades, to procure a uniform but I want to think Gil is aware of the difference between what uniform Kareem Abdul-Jabbar wears and what uniform Mikhail Baryshnikov wears when plying their respective trades. It’s like watching Deacon Jones get ready for the tip dressed like “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies”. I like Tchaikovsky but prefer to leave ballet out of the equation when lining up in the free throw lanes for the one-and-one.

And even emergency uniforms aren’t as ragged as Achebe’s work of art. Does Coach Thorp make it a habit of motivating players to dress to unimpress???? Deacon Jones would fit in better with all the hobos eating Franco-American out of a can in a boxcar of Milford & Oakwood rather than a basketball team. I knew Gil was desperate but didn’t think he’d resort to recruiting Boxcar Willie. I hope that’s not the same article of clothing I saw at a garage sale this week.

In Coach Thorp’s office one day

“Gil, I need those reports for-uh, Gil, why do you have a flashlight in your private parts?”

“Oh hey, I was thinking about enlisting in the Marine Reserves.”

To answer Achebe’s question in P2, that’s really leaving him wide open (his shoulders would look massive in a mailman’s uniform) , how do you respond when he’s dressed to glissade with Nuryev? Uh yeah, Deacon, they look like the Rock of Gibraltar, especially in comparison to the other girlie-girlies in gymnastics class. Those boulders will look real sexy when you’re dressed like a sugar plum fairy for tonight’s recital at Milford Concert Hall. I’d be intimidated if Peter Pan was flying after me after he bulked up at Milford Planet Fitness.

Evening Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Bound And Determined To Recruit Quality Help For Flag Football Team!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I’ll get the blocking back I want no matter how much I spend on Fazoli’s gift cards.”

We may never know whether Deacon Jones had a double-double in his tutu since we are jerked to girls basketball action. All this bitching and howling from Coach Thorp that he is relatively short-handed compels you to almost feel sorry for Gil and consequently anticipate whether adding The Rock of Gibralter will strengthen the frontcourt, then WDIG abruptly switches to A Charlie Brown Martin Luther King Birthday Special. Bleeding hearts went the same path the lemmings went.

The consolation prize is Cathy Sasaki is smoothing out her game, going by Heather Tarbell’s words. And it’s bad enough that all we really saw of the boys upcoming game was The Milford Kiwanis Club Calendar of Events posted in the boys locker room and some lunkhead wearing the equivalent of girls tights in the same venue because Gil was still ordering from the catalog but I bet (there’s that word again) the readership is ill-prepared for another Heather article saying Cathy may have dished the rock well but her toenail polish didn’t match Mudlark Red. Like we need another Another World in lieu of decent OR ANY basketball action. Or even Another World ON the court. God knows we’re getting a surfeit of soap operas off the court. Do we really need Heather the Tarbull prating about Cathy’s turnovers? A blown assignment on defense? Way to instill confidence, Tarbull.

So we hold our breath to see if Cathy can play with confidence the next couple of days while Heather Tarbell is on permanent assignment to McGill University. A person can dream, right?

This month we celebrate the birthday of Doctor Martin Luther King, Junior. The man chose to rise above the hate to bring equal rights to his race and to the Human Race in general. He did everything with Christian Love and therefore accomplished great things. Barriers were broken down so that all could live truly peacefully.

In memory of King and because I am angered and outraged that many black musicians got the shaft while beautifully showcasing their talents, please spread the word about The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, The Who, Rod Stewart, U2, REM, Duran Duran, The Police, Eric Clapton, Edgar Winter, Johnny Winter, Bill Monroe, Roy Acuff, and Benny Goodman who couldn’t do everything but did SOMETHING to address racial injustice. If everybody would do SOMETHING, we’d get a lot accomplished. Racism would be on the run.

Like the U2 song says

Early evening, April 4

Shot rings out in the Memphis sky

Free at last

They took your life

They could not take your pride

“And we’ll be back to tell you how Deacon Jones did in his debut in the Game That Never Was after these messages. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

At the Milford High School track, Gil on his 31st lap at 4:00AM

“Puff puff pant pant, I’m gettin’ there, a few more laps and I’ll be ready for the Milford Marathon. And with this kind of endurance, I’ll be able to perform in bed and not get lapped by Mimi. It’s humiliating to get stone-erect only to get beaten by a hair because you didn’t lean far enough.”

SCREEEEEEEEECCCHHHHHHHH

Mimi gets out of the station wagon with the kids. Mimi is still in her robe. The kids are in their orange and chartreuse Underoos overlapping their Nike sweats

“GIL!!!!!!!!! IT IS 4 AM!!!!!!!!!!!! And you had the kids worried sick!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Get off this track and get your butt home NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“And leave when I’m running a 7:30 mile split? When destiny awaits at the finish line to reward me with a renewed manhood? By the 25th mile, I’ll be rockin’ your world while you’re still comin’ up for air. Nuthin’ like running with the Olympic torch from Athens to my bed and your flame glittering brighter than the bulb shining on the Totino’s in the microwave. I hope you used plenty of Zippo lighters.”

“Mommy, he read me Goldilocks and the 3 Bears then he tucked me into bed and said he was going to go pooping for the farts. That doesn’t make sense.”

“I meant ‘Shooting for the stars’, Keri. And if I want maximum performance, why settle for Pluto when you have the universe? Where you can have the Milky Way under the sheets?”

“Gil, I’m going to throw a bag of 3 Musketeers at you if you don’t get off this track and march your hind end on home!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Come on, Mimi, I can’t quit now. I still have 73 more laps to go. I am going to be in tip-top condition for the Milford Marathon and for my erectile performance. Y’know, they really go hand-in-hand. When the starter’s gun goes off, I won’t get caught with a false start either on the track or when we both take off our clothes.”

“Mommy, I’m going to take off my Fred Flintstones and race with Daddy. I’ll bet when I race around the track, I’ll have a boner bigger than Bam Bam’s club.”

“JAIME, YOU KEEP YOUR CLOTHES ON AND LIKE IT!!!!!!!!!! Gil, This is the last time!!!!!!!!! Leave this track now sleep out in the garage!!!!!!!”

“But Honey, I was going to run up and down the bleachers to practice Heartbreak Hill. This won’t-“

CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Damn it, I told Luhm to replace that rotted board.”

“I relented and only bruised my hip and my pride. I can put IcyHot on my hip. My pride had to get bandaged at Milford Men’s Clinic. With the new EREC-3508 FunSpray, one squirt from the Pledge bottle on my wiener and Mimi and I are goin’ to town. It’s a shame there isn’t an event in the Olympics for Synchronized Marathon Running, we’d be a shoo-in for the Gold. Come cross the finish line today and win your manhood back only at Milford Men’s Clinic.”

Gang, just because Rosey Greer did needlepoint doesn’t mean he wore a tutu when he played. Get your facts straight.

Otherwise, God bless you all.

Late Late Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Lands Commitment To Play Long Snapper On His Flag Football Team!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I talked with Milford Minimum Security. As long as he made curfew, they foresaw no problem.”

At Milford Nudist Colony

“Mommy, why is daddy sticking a flashlight in your butt?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhh, I stuck some quarters in your piggy bank, Keri. Go play Pac-Man in the rec hall.”

January 26, 2022

I Kinda Thought He’d Put Me in the Goon Squad

Filed under: basketball, big arms, football, Gil Thorp, Prairie Style Windows — teenchy @ 10:38 am

For a moment there I thought Gil might have actually recruited Lineman Gordon Achebe to join his Mudlark hoopsters. That would’ve required some action on Gil’s part and, as longtime readers know, when it comes to coaching Gil doesn’t act, he reacts.

This time he lets Heather Burns and the Star do his dirty work. Knowing that Milford is that rare place in America where kids read GRIT the daily papers, Gildeaux lets Heather play up his squad’s scrawniness, then sits back and lets the volunteers roll in. Gordon obviously has confidence in his strength and he already has experience talking to Heather. He’ll be all set to field her softballs about his role in adding muscle to the Mudlark forecourt.

Will Gil’s passive-aggressive plan to bulk up his front line pay off? Time will tell. For now, it’s off to the locker room to see just how much more time Gordon can be big. Hiyo!

January 25, 2022

Gil’s Bolero Or Gil’s Bull?

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 2:16 pm

You whippersnappers will have to forgive me, “Beck’s Bolero” just sends me every time I listen to it. It is described as one of the greatest Rock instrumentals of all time and it contained an All-Star line-up. We’re talking the great Jeff Beck, a guitar virtuoso with a brilliant mind for music, the protagonist of this song, his electric guitar soaring to new heights throughout the song, Jimmy Page, rhythm guitar, who proved an ingenious accompaniment, John Paul Jones, bass, Nicky Hopkins, keyboards, and Keith Moon, drums. As some of you might know, Page and Jones went on to form Led Zeppelin with Robert Plant on vocals and John Bonham on drums, Moon was a drummer with The Who, and Hopkins did frequent work with The Rolling Stones. In fact, this was considered the seed that would grow into Led Zeppelin but Moon, though a bit disillusioned with The Who, eventually ironed out his grievances with Pete Townshend, guitarist of the band. John Entwistle, bassist of the same, seriously considered participating in the Bolero project as well based on his own gripes with The Who but never showed and eventually returned to The Who. Interestingly enough, Moon was reputed to have said that this group would probably go down like a lead balloon to which Entwistle reputedly added “More like a lead zeppelin” (Beliveable, IMO) . An “e” was dropped and a supergroup eventually emerged.

But Gil’s Bolero is just flat-out grating my nerves and I bet (pardon the pun) the readership would agree. As I have mentioned several times, we are recycling plots as we have already banished Carter Hendricks from Milford so why are we reinstating him only to throw him out on the streets again? Like, what are we going to do with Pranit once his gambling tendencies catch up with him, give him a $100 gift card from The Bucket???? Your gambling addiction is catching up with you, you cur, here’s the keys to that unit at Milford Condo Suites. You’ll be neighbors with O.J.

Tevin Clapton is simply stating the obvious. Pranit can’t keep playing with fire and not have Commissioner Gordon approach him the way the latter approached Hendricks. With Heather Tarbell in the same room at the guillotine? And this time, the stakes carry a little more weight. You can lose your membership but get in with the right person, pay your membership dues, and perform some community service, and promise no more spot-betting at hole #8 and all is forgotten. Get suspended from school or even expelled from school and it’s gonna take more than cleaning out the latrines at Milford Petting Zoo to get reinstated. You can’t write a check to cover 3 years of membership dues and run it past Dr. Pearl. Tevin isn’t thrilled? Are you serious, Gabe? Tevin almost made it sound like Pranit is on the Wide Path to Destruction. Who can argue? Don’t make it sound like Coach Thorp is going to make Pranit stand in a corner if he overrruns the tab at the Milford Horse Racing window. Couldn’t keep the Milford Mafia from roughing you up after mounting Vince Packard losses? Go to your room without any supper. Wake up and smell the Coffee Cantina, Gabe.

Keith Moon can be heard in the song screaming (typical Loony Moony) as he kicked over some drums and was playing primarily cymbals for the rest of the song

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Yelling Is Finally Identified In ‘Gil’s Bolero’!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“My wife saw a centipede crawl across the studio and right next to her leg. We’ll call Milford Exterminating tomorrow.”

And talk about freak hands. Pranit in P1 has a Lego Block assembly if I ever saw one. Just snap the middle finger and index finger onto the upper palm and BOOM BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!, instant waving goodbye. Buckminster Fuller couldn’t have designed it better. I’ll have to admit, the textbooks actually look like textbooks, not rectangles that arose out of non-Euclidean geometry, i.e., the parallel lines will never meet albeit in a severely-curved hyperbola. But that’s like complimenting the LA freeway system on the upgrades even with bridges still crumbling whenever an earthquake occurs. It’s nice to get from Santa Monica to San Bernardino as long as a San Andreas Fault trap on the passing lane on I-15 doesn’t swallow my Kenworth.

In Gil’s office one day with “Beck’s Bolero” blasting from the speakers

“That’s enough, Shaw. You don’t have to tap-dance the rest of the afternoon. You’re rehired. Be here at 8 ‘o clock sharp tomorrow.”

Let me get this out of the way first. Jesus Christ is Lord of my life and therefore I have a real problem with gambling. I apologize if anybody thinks that I’m preaching but I have a hard time talking about something I am dead set against in every which way.

That said, I realize prople have different views and therefore I will never stand in the way of anyone walking into a 7-11 to buy a lottery ticket or sitting at the gaming table at Milford Gaming Casino praying for the winning number. My testimony, more than my words, is the best way to reach people if I want them won over to my way of thinking. And that’s with anything you believe in or love by.

I do think it’s amusing to hear Tevin talk about Pranit’s can’t-miss methodology to finance his way to college. Like I’m going to go down to Milford Kwik-Mart and do a scratch-off to see if I can enroll at Milford Community College this Spring. Apparently Thorpiverse thinks we’re THIS stupid and share the same anticipation that Pranit is experiencing when he’s playing Milford Powerball. Yup, I’m just as good as Harvard once I get the winning numbers. Oh, let me get another Slushee out of the tap. I already have the milk and eggs on the counter that Mom sent me to the store to get.

And nice switcheroo, T-verse. Carter was cheating everybody else, even though it was just loose change he was pitching pennies or pitching putts for with the other 3 stooge partners on the links. In other words, he got drummed out of Milford for betting some schmuck’s change purse. He needs to get jettisoned out of the universe if he was going to be John Dillinger and hold up the cashier at Milford High cafeteria.

Anyway, T-verse is trying to fake us out by compelling Pranit to cheat himself by gambling himself to death. We understand, T-verse, if he ends on Milford Skid Row with Tiki’s parents, it’ll be because he raided his change purse, not that of his golf partner. Don’t you love these Life Lessons? If Milford Credit Agency sends out two goons out to repossess your furniture and your vehicle, be sure you robbed your own piggy bank and not somebody else’s. It’s how Heather Tarbell ran Carter ragged, she exposed his pick-pocketing his friend’s quarters and dimes. But she won’t write an expose on your raiding your own piggy bank at your expense. It’s not her policy to report on self-inflicted injuries. Comforting to know when those goons are hauling my coffee table to tbeir van. Did you ever see the goons tow Carter’s VW Jetta off the parking lot at Milford Country Club? Lesson learned. Case closed.

But if you hit the jackpot, Pranit, you might consider Cornell. Great school on top of a hill. Excellent view of Ithaca.

If ya is the croupier and ya use squirrels ya trapped in the back of the building ta run the roulette wheel, ya might be a redneck.

Mr. Luhm has gone above and beyond the call of duty while we were absorbe. by Gil’s Bolero. Those floors are the same ones they used at the Sochi Olympics and Luhm is simply mastering perfection. You might want to watch the ice skaters rushing by while you’re tearing down Pranit, Tevin and Gabe.

“If he keeps mortgaging the house to finance his gambling addiction, he’s going to slippppppppp-“

If Pranit wins the Milford Powerball this week, maybe he could gift-wrap some ice skates and make the plot interesting. It could happen.

Jeff Beck was with Yardbird (“For Your Love”-a song Clapton despised and was the reason he left the band for John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, Blues being more to Clapton’s liking, “The Shapes of Things”, “Heart Full of Soul”, “Over, Under, Sideways, Down”) when he created “Beck’s Bolero”. As management of Yardbird encouraged solo efforts to complement Yardbird’s strong presence on the charts and with the media and the fans, Beck was given carte blanche for the project. As he has always had a reputation for working better with no pressure and nobody hanging over his shoulder, it showed in this masterpiece. He drew his reputation from Ravel’s “Bolero”, itself a masterpiece as there was never a development of a theme but a theme that repeated several times with excellent additions of instruments throughout the song to enhance this classic. Anyway

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Endows Proper Credit When Singing The Praises Of ‘Gil’s Bolero’!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I listened to a lot of Gene Watson. Plus I added a dash of ‘Love Potion #9’ for good measure.”

On a serious note, Tevin is only telling the truth in P3. The gambling industry isn’t stupid. It is like any company, it has to make a profit to stay in business. If it kept paying out with less coming in, it would close its doors like any business. The University of Nevada-Las Vegas for years has been notorious for two things: 1) Excellent basketball with an NCAA Championship in 1990 (Listened to them run Duke off the floor, although Duke got its revenge next year) 2) Excellent math department as gambling casinos all over Vegas consulted it for the proper combination of keeping the customers happy with timely odds and still keeping the books in the black.

I just doubt that the TWIMers are really enthralled with watching Pranit sneak through the kitchen to play the slot machines at Milford Gaming Casinos. Money in case he doesn’t win a basketball scholarship at McGill University? Oh, darn, he won’t be following Macy’s trail. If only he’d play one more slot machine, he could have afforded Dartmouth. Slip the security a 20 because he’s a minor and win at Black Jack and he’s a dead ringer for Williams College. Mt. Greylock is a beautiful sight in the Massachusetts countryside.

“We’ll be back to find out if Pranit’s dad will have to put up the house for collateral after Pranit went hog-wild with the Milford Gambling Hotline on his cell phone after these messages from Milford Radio Playhouse. You’re listening to WDIG.”

“Bathtubs are not a grand experience when rust and mold have accumulated on them and when senior citizens have to resort to using Lysol to go skinny-dipping, it is time for radically different outcomes.

Greetings, this is Mr. Dr. Pearl and when my wife had to buy two cans of Rust-Oleum to enjoy a hot bath, it was time to rethink shower facilities. Thank Heavens that Milford Bath Magic, Inc. came to the rescue like the Wells Fargo wagon. It had more shower installations and safety tubs crammed in the cabriolet than the gold that was headed for delivery down the road to Dodge City. They had wonderful options. The tub-to-shower conversion was perfect for me as I am always on the go and a quick shower with little pestilences is my cup of Earl Grey tea. The people at Milford Bath Magic have sprayed it with certified chemicals from Milford Pest Control so you are guaranteed a shower in the Elysian Fields with no worries about ingesting any carcinogenic vermin spray. If you indeed get suppressed with an overdose of D-Con or if any critter dare establish camp around the drain, Milford Bath Magic will cheerfully refund your money. Isn’t that peace of mind when the doctor informs you that it’s terminal?

My wife was also contented with her whirlpool they installed in the bathroom. She can sit in peace and harmony while I’m crooning ‘Rose Garden’ in the shower. Smile for a while and let’s be jolly, bathing shouldn’t be so melancholy and it isn’t for my wife as the whirlpool emits a warming massaging while she reads Milford Racing Forms and sips on her Boone’s Farm. Only Lynn Anderson would have something like Agatha Christie to read, otherwise Dr. Pearl’s bathing Karma is a sight to behold. I know, I’m the only one witnessing her in the raw in the whirlpool calling to bet on the winning horse. Paradise restored.

For those of you concerned with cost, no worries. Milford Bath Magic has teamed up with Milford Credit Union to establish affordable payment plans that conform to your budget. You will not have to sacrifice your children’s certificates of deposit for college to get the mice out of the tub. We will call with advanced warning for any payment obstructions. We want you to have a tub experience, not deal with The Sopranos when you’re singing in the rain.

You’re all set. Come see the good people today at Milford Bath Magic, Inc. and know what it is like to skinny-dip once again when nobody’s looking. They haven’t done so with my wife for years, rest assured. Nirvana is golden. Only at Milford Bath Magic.”

I’ll lay odds on Pranit Goes South. It won The Preakness, I’m told. Oops, I’m a Christian. Never mind.

God bless you anyway, Gang.

At WDIG Recording Studio for “Gil’s Bolero”

“DAMN!!!!!!!!!!! The string broke on that banjo. How long before we can get a replacement?”

“Not sure, Coach. We’re still waiting on the Jew’s harp.”

January 24, 2022

I Got A System And I Can’t Lose

Filed under: High Five Fail, Pointy Fingers, Prairie Style Windows — nedryerson @ 4:37 am

Welcome to sports book talk with Pranit Smith. Pranit has to school Gabe on the finer points of sports wagering. Tevin surmises that it will all end in tears. There you have it. Another slice of life among teen sportsmen. Please kill me.

I feel nothing but apathy towards betting on games and all the claptrap that surrounds the practice. Point spreads, parlays, trap games, etc. always just seemed like a distraction from what happens in the field of play. To each his own, I guess, but it doesn’t give me a thrill to risk losing money of something arbitrary. Of course, I’ve thrown a few dollars away on slots, but I can do that for a little thrill in a self contained moment and not have to have to scream at a tv set for hours hoping some guy kicks a field goal for me to get a payout.

I’ve also found the coziness developing between the NFL and gambling to be disturbing. What are the ramification of the online betting advertising partnerships and having a team in Vegas? I’m not really sure, but I do remember the days when anything that whiffed of a connection between a sports league and any gambling was usually discouraged.

I’m assuming Gil is probably at least as old school in his thinking as me, but it will take him another few months to get wind of what’s going on and bring the hammer down. I’ll just parlay that into an opportunity to opine about whatever and share songs that spring to mind. To wit, here’s Little Milton:

January 22, 2022

Tell It Like It is Saturday

Today’s strip features two characters hearing things about themselves they don’t really want to hear. But before we dive into today’s story and tacking onto robmize’s comment about fishwrap, I just gotta ask: has the Milford Star always been a tabloid? If so, then some things start making sense.

Not far away and across a river from where I live lies Mercer County, New Jersey, home to the state capital Trenton and served by two newspapers: The Times and The Trentonian. How such a small market can sustain two papers in this day and age is remarkable, but the answer is straightforward: while The Times played it straight offering Washington Post-style reporting, The Trentonian played it yellow and offered Page 6 Girls, bikini-clad, PG-13 versions of The Sun‘s Page 3 Girls. The Trentonian also gave Ernie Kovacs a regular column, so I guess it had that going for it. Maybe, then, there’s another newspaper in Milford and/or the Valley that plays it straight.

Tabloid news is designed to get a rise out of its readers, and in Milford it’s no different. Cathy is so upset by Heather Burns’ Lady Mudlark hit piece that Hollis had to console her by quoting The Dude swapping blouses. It’s what a good captain does. (Okay, you tell me how they ended up in each other’s shirt, then.) For her sake, Cathy had better never find out that Heather was just paraphrasing something Mimi told her. Tough for the little snitch to learn that the Lady Mudlarks’ early struggles may lie with her and not with the two players she ratted on for not attending the non-mandatory post-practice practice.

Smash cut to the halls of Milford High School, home of lockers big enough to qualify as studio apartments in Manhattan. (Steve Luhm’s beat it back from Casa Talley quickly enough to get both floors squeaky clean.) Trevor Lawrence is the first of Pranit Hollywood’s teammates to throw his little gambling scheme back in his face, but it doesn’t stop Pranit from bragging about his success. Of course he’s successful now; that’s how the house sucks you in.

January 21, 2022

It takes a paper to raise a child

Filed under: Chunky Bracelets, Coach Kaz, Gil Thorp, Milford Idiots, Milford Weirdos — robmize2013 @ 8:39 pm

Boy these coaches sure plan ahead– instead of off-season weight-training in summer, they wait til the local rag notices their lack of muscle up front and hope the kids read the rag before it becomes a fishwrap. (Some of you remember I’m a mailman. Years ago we used to get a local news mailing once a month or so that looked like a folded paper, and we called it the fishwrap.)

What a pair of dummies. If they ever donated their bodies to science, the doctors would find nothing inside of em but wood.

P2– Last I checked, fury hath nothing to do with the size of ones biceps. Another dummy. (More wood inside)

And in P3 we have the besties reading the paper together (oh Pleeeeezze! Who the hell does that?) with a plate of cookies to one side. Methinks if you’re sharing cookies, normal people would put the plate in the middle, allowing both of you equal opportunity to graze as your perusing the local rag (future fishwrap).

Yep, 2 more dummies. (You know what goes here)

January 20, 2022

We Learned That Pranit Does A Heckuva Springsteen Imitation.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 1:34 pm

We depart Pranit and Butthead and their underhanded gambling operation for the moment (assuming) to return to the hardwood. But as in other panels, this is merely a whistle-stop as the other two panels will attest and we will more than likely regress to Pranit, who today is disguised as The Boss (a name Springsteen despised) . This is when it gets absurd. Under Berrill’s regime, sports was the Main Event and the gambling escapades were the side show. No better example was when Vince Packard assisted Gil in football and taught chemistry in Mudlarkland. He also had a nasty gambling binge like Pranit but unlike Pranit, he got roughed up a couple of times when he couldn’t make good on his debts (What???? Goodfellas in Milford????-Naaaaaaaaaa) . His dad finally bails him out with the stern warning this would be the last bail-out. Vince understood and lived to see another day.

Anyway, it’s pretty much the opposite now. Sports is a diversion and useless drama is on stage for the world to observe. He scored on a basket that has a severe case of Cooper’s Droop? Ho hum, I wonder if they’ll fit Pranit in concrete shoes if he can’t settle his gambling tab. Man, that’s a story Heather can pick up after she’s crawled through the same vents that Marjie Ducey once clawed through to get the skinny from Gil in how the team is doing. Right, Gil, the team sucks, whatever, now how many bullet holes did Pranit receive when he was at Coffee Cantina? The thugs came through the back entrance? And they stopped for a cruller after they bumped off Pranit? Front page on the Milford Star. I’ll even get a photo of Pranit’s dental work that the authorities recovered in the latte cup. State’s evidence. Okay, Gil, Rosey Greer needs to eat more Bucket Burgers to bolster the frontline. Hey, I’m a reporter, not a waitress. Now you found Bob Smith in a ditch? With only one leg? The other one was found in a sewer? No fingerprints yet? Okay, here’s my number, call me when you’ve turned up anything on Bob’s shin at the Milford Police Crime Lab.

Journalism will never be the same.

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Denies Ties With Goodfellas!!!!!! Claims Complete Misunderstanding!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I don’t need to point-shave in the Flag Football League. I’ll score touchdowns my way.”

I wish Heather Burns would report on the condition of the basketball goals in P1. I have seen toilet seats at a state park outhouse hover better than the rim and net that our Prince Valiant is shooting the rock into. You can’t blame Chocolate Thunder on this one. As CT used to say “I’m gonna go groovin’, so ya better get movin'”. True, but make sure you have something to groove to before everybody clears away on another one of your glass-breakers or you’re going to be wasting one of your glass-breakers on a flimsy commode seat. All those players headin’ towards the exits simply exited in vain. Wilt the Stilt won the High Jump in the NCAA Nationals while at Kansas (look it up) so you know he could elevate on a dunk but I never saw him rise to the occasion on a Nerfhoop that had seen better days. Better pitch that wimpy goal in the trash and get it ready for Trash Tuesday before the garbage man arrives, Luhm.

And who in the name of Naismith establishes defensive position like the Goshen player (again, assuming it’s not Jefferson or LA Lakers) ? Yes, the Mudlark is executing a reverse lay-up but not even John Mengelt plays defense at a perpendicular angle with the Mudlark. Mengelt would tackle the Mudlark in short-yardage situations WITH HIS BODY SQUARE WITH THE MUDLARK (Rob is going to kill me, Rob is going to kill me…) Not grasp at straws facing the Goshen Pep Band in the bleachers. I’d hate to see where his feet are planted. I hope it doesn’t resemble a Bucket Chocolate/Vanilla Twistee Cone. At least Mengelt would have both feet parallel with each other before he tackled the Mudlark on 3rd and inches. And I repeat, it’s not the distance but the angle of the hapless Goshen myrmidon. No way the Confederates could have ever withstood Pickett’s charge when the cannons were pointed towards Ontario rather than the Union Army. You can’t stop Bob “Butterbean” Love with your torso directed away from the commode seat, er, bucket (Rob is going to etc.) .

If ya git a complete face makeover from Milford Cosmetology Institute because ya wanna look more like George Jones and turn on all the women in yore trailer park, ya might be a redneck.

So nice of Murphy Brown to drop in. I didn’t know she could slither through the air ducts like Heather and Marjie to get a scoop. Wait a minute, that’s Heather Burns. Boy, talk about age progression on a milk carton. She went from Cindy Brady to Mrs. Howell. It’s hard for me to imagine Natalie Schaefer’s mug in the Have You Seen Me section of the milk carton but then again, I didn’t expect The Moon Dogs a/k/a Jefferson to push around The Raggedy Ann’s a/k/a Mudlarks.

And speaking of Natalie Schaefer she played an executive on The Brady Bunch who had some dealings with Mike Brady. But Marcia and Jan have Cindy convinced that she’s a talent scout and that since Cindy reminded people of a young Shirley Temple, she should dress the part to impress the scout. And so eventually Cindy dances and sings to “On the Good Ship Lollipop”, much to an embarrassing conclusion. It turns out well as Schaefer leaves singing that tune as it reminded her of her own childhood even though Cindy is not entirely off the hook with Mike and Carol in the final analysis. She didn’t wind up being a boot-licking, Manwich-eating savant like Marjie so there was a bit of a happy ending.

That’s kinda what Heather is doing here, just like Marjie, singing and dancing, although it’s probably more Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie performing “Yardbird Suite”. Somewhat disjointed but price you pay for genuflecting in Gil’s office. Just don’t jump on the desk just yet, Heather. Let the Pledge settle that Luhm sprayed before tap-dancing to “Yankee Doodle Dandy”. The consolation prize to all this is Gil is being straightforward without all that static he normally flings at a reporter like Marjie or Heather. He must have liked the song.

In Dr. Pearl’s office one day

“On the good ship Lollipop

It’s a sweet trip to a candy shop-“

“Mimi!!!!!!!! Okay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Okay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ll let you switch vacations with Ms. Rizk.”

We have a couple of more entries in Milford Pantheon of Mysterious Objects.

I mean, what could POSSIBLY be protruding between Gil and Murphy Brown? The Xerox copier that won’t stay dead. Gil tried to stab it with his steely knife but he just couldn’t kill the beast. Heather, you can check out of Gil’s office any time you like but you can never leave. Plenty of bull at this Hotel California. Anyway, Gil tried to beat the Ricoh From Hell with a crowbar but only managed to stun it with his taser gun before he could manage to sit down before Heather arrived. Just watch your back side every now and then, Murphy. The Blob has caught several Ida Tarbell’s flat-footed.

And what could possibly be hanging on the wall? Valley Conference Coach of the Year Runner–Up? Gil lost to the Goshen coach. Maybe Goshen sucked in basketball and went 0-18 but he still motivated the team to put 5 on the floor. People had jobs in the concession stands that way. I’d hate to not be able to pay my bills because I got laid off as the Goshen Ticket Tearer at the Turnstiles because the team was lousy. The Goshen coach did Gil one better and managed to restore order.

Or maybe Milford Dale Carnegie Institute Man of the Year. That’s right, he catches more flies with BS than with vinegar and does it in a nice way. He’s got my vote. There is no better person who can win over people and motivate them at their peak performance than with all the doo doo he’s shoveled at them. More than likely how he got the GIL mug, a generous token received along with the certificate.

One possiblity I’d rule out, a reminder note in 8 × 11.5 form from Milford Grease Monkey about when his next tune-up is forthcoming. I don’t think he’d showcase that next to his ’75 Championship composite.

In Gil’s office one day

“Any more questions, Heather?”

“Just one more. Do you know who shot Coach Shaw?”

“As I understand it, my sources tell me that-“

“COACH!!!!!!!!!!!! Do you still have that sledgehammer in your closet? Ducey’s stuck in the vent again!!!!!! She’s gotta stop eating those Manwiches!!!!!!!”

“Sure, Luhm. Need any help?”

Since when did Vince Packard Jr. suddenly start getting interested in the rest of the team? Not only is Vince pulling off his worst imitation of Bruce since “Greetings from Asbury Park” was released, he’s horribly out of character. I thought you were too wrapped up in your gambling ventures to look up from the table and see the surroundings. And what do you care about the frontline? When you’re not at Saratoga betting on Gil’s Bull, you’re bombing 3’s from the men’s room. It is entertaining to watch you think you have ANY concern for the welfare of the team when you evidently have no concern with your own welfare when you start messing around in an area involving The Sopranos. This is like watching Bruce perform “Born to Run” on an accordion at Milford Senior Center. But at least that’s slightly more convincing.

“And that wraps up the game as the Jefferson Beef Dogs defeat the Milford Mudlarks, 69-54. I’ll have all the stats and interviews after these messages. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

At the Shaw household late one night

“Honnnnneyyyyyyyy, I’m horrrrrnnnnnnnyyyyyy-what are you doing tap-dancing on the dining room table in a tuxedo? And the neighbors will see your Fruit of the Looms.”

“I’VE THROWN AWAY MY TOYS, EVEN MY DRUM AND BEER

I WANT TO MAKE SOME NOISE WITH A REAL LIVE AEROPLANE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Oh hey, Honey, I’m working up a routine to get my old seasonal job back with Gil. I think he’ll like ‘On The Good Ship Lollipop’. A couple of negotiating sessions on the ocean liner, a few games of shuffleboard and BOOM BABY, I’ll be back on the football field long before Nick’s Subs shows up.”

“Honey, I think the song was talking about an airplane and I’d like you to fly in with me into bed and crash-land on me.”

“No way, Woman!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now go order a pizza, do the wash, whatever, but I’ve got work to do!!!!!!!!!

“Where bon-bons playyyyyyyyyyyyy

At The Bucket booth by Peppermint Bayyyyyy”

As Coach Shaw knocks off a couple of candles that spill wax all over the carpet

“Darling, you need to taste some bon-bons but you can only do that if you come to bed. And you tap-dance like a giraffe.”

“You’re just jealous, Mrs. Shaw!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ll have Gil forget Shirley Temple when I tap-dance all over his football roster print-outs on his desk!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lemonade stands everywhere

Crackerjack bands fill the air

And there you are

Happy landing on a chocolate bar”

As Coach Shaw trips and his butt lands on the leftover Halloween Snickers bars

“Lovey-Dovey, take off the formalwear and underwear and come to bed and land on this Snickers bar.”

“No way. My job belongs to the stars and I intend to get it back!!!!!!!!!!!! And I’ll get my manhood back in one fell swoop. Nothing like Gil seeing that I want to be a coach and a man again. Pay raises are made for things like this.

See the sugar bowl do the Tootsie Roll

With the big bad burned clam bake

If you eat too much

Ooh ooh

You’ll awake with a tummy ache”

BRRRRRINNNNGGGGGG

BRRRRRINNNNGGGGGG

“Hello? No, Mrs. Schaefer, he hasn’t been drinking.”

“The tuxedo itched anyway. I fessed up to my Erectile Dysfunction problem and tap-danced my way to Milford Men’s Clinic. They had excellent treatment programs that tailored to my needs and now I am flyin’ high in bed. Come dance the night away yourself by comin’ down to The Clinic. The night belongs to the bed.”

That isn’t Bruce Springsteen singing “Candy’s Room” in P3. He’d be standing on top of a table. Oh, that’s already been done. But God bless you anyway, Gang.

“On the Good Ship Lollipop

Where Gil staggers to the liquor shop-“

GET OFF THAT TABLE, MACY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

January 19, 2022

Pranit, Practicing for His Deposition

If Rubin would spend as much time developing characters and dialogue as he does giving them wacky names and explaining their origins, Gil Thorp might actually be an interesting strip.

Seriously, do any of you gentle readers feel like something’s missing here – something that could be clarified with some punctuation or words in boldface? Does any of this sound like anything a human would actually say? Is the Valley that Milford plays in the Uncanny Valley?

What starts out here reading like a recruiting pitch from Pranit for the Church of the SubGenius turns into some kind of explanation as to how he’s able to bet on sports online despite not being of legal gambling age. The most logical way to read this (at least to me, and that’s not saying much) is that the DraftKings Sportsduke account is Pranit’s, and he just put his older brother’s name on it in an attempt to skirt the law. The fact that the account is tied to a minor’s bank account should have been obvious to anyone at Sportsduke responsible for account creation.

None of this will matter to the mooks who come to break Pranit’s kneecaps when he starts losing money he can’t pay back, either via Sportsduke or by shaving points from Mudlark basketball games. It will come as a surprise to Bob when those mooks come to break his kneecaps as well.

One of the tenets of the Church of the SubGenius is “Slack,” a quality vaguely defined but which is sought to be acquired by its members. I can only vaguely define the reasons for my late post today, but suffice it to say that I have been slack in not getting it posted sooner.

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